


Drifting

by TheSmallestThings



Category: Iron Man (Movies), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: @marvel, Angst, Avengers:Endgame, Based off that one scene in the trailer!, F/M, Hurt Tony Stark, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, hasn't he been through enough, stop hurting tony, you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:57:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallestThings/pseuds/TheSmallestThings
Summary: Tony had forgotten how terrified he was of the dark void of space until he was alone in it.Oxygen depleting, food and water gone. Of all the ways Tony could have gone out, this was not what he thought would happen.Now he's tired, defeated, and scared, thinking of all the 'what ifs' and 'could've beens'.Tony is drifting. Tony is dying.





	Drifting

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So the Avengers:Endgame trailer completely destroyed me! Thanks for the pain @Marvel!!! So, I felt it was my solemn duty to expand on Tony's suffering because, while he has absolutely been through enough, my specialty is hurting characters even more! New chapters of the other fics should be out soon, but hopefully this can tide you guys over until those are out! Lots of love! Enjoy!!!

When Tony imagined himself dying, as he did quite often these days, he never once considered _this_ would be what did him in. Drifting through space, alone, exhausted, and with rapidly dwindling supplies. He had, though, often thought he would see his demise in other ways: A blast of flames, an angry enemy ( _or friend_ his mind helpfully suggested), some stupid, pointless act of sacrifice, and-- for a short while-- by his own hands. But he could have never prepared for this.

He couldn’t have predicted that this would be his end, floating aimlessly while his lungs burned as they attempted to inhale the last ghosts of oxygen available. As his mind wandered and drifted and the air thinned. It was almost merciful. A peaceful end to a chaotic life. And it almost felt like mercy. Almost.

But he couldn’t call it that. Could never call it that. Mercy was something given to those who had nothing and he had-- he had…

Who did he have?

He used to be able to say that he had the team-- the closest thing to a family he had, but now that was gone. His fault. He was to blame for that. He’d take it. But none of them would miss him, none of them would be concerned or looking for him because he was such a _goddamned idiot_ and ran away when he should’ve--

Don’t panic. Keep your breathing steady. There’s not much left.

He wasn’t sure if his mind was referring to oxygen or time.

Peter… God, the poor kid, he was gone. Literally disintegrated in his arms. The kind, smart, joyful kid that seemed to never give up… he was gone. Maybe that was his fault. He couldn’t ever be sure anymore when everything always felt like his fault.

And Pepper. He missed Pepper the most. She was his light, his shining star. She was his reason for life, and now… 

They were supposed to be getting married. Having kids. Starting a family. He messed that up too, huh? Should’ve listened to her, stayed on the ground, gotten some fucking _courage_ for once instead of running away from his issues. Yet somehow, he kept doing it. Over and over and over and over he made the same mistakes. He was the lab rat, pushing the pleasure lever over and over until it died, but the lever only caused more pain, and by God if Tony wasn’t a glutton for punishment. He would have to be at this point, to go the extent which he did and still come back for more. What kind of masochistic life had he been leading where the only things that brought him joy were those things that pained him as well.

Pepper. Back to Pepper. He was drifting, he promised he would think of her and he wasn’t going to break it. Not that promise at least.

His mind still pushed the destructive thoughts into his skull though, reminding him that what he was doing was in vain, that for all that he knew, she hadn’t survived. Reminding him that she might have gone out the same way as Peter, except he wasn’t there the whole time, wasn’t holding her hand and lying and saying it was all going to be alright. Telling her that he was going to fix it. For all he knew, he was sending messages to a ghost, a pile of dust.

All he was doing was relaying a message from one lost soul to another, telling lies that fell elegantly from the tip of his tongue, knowing full well that with every passing breath he became one step closer to the beckoning embrace of death.

Death, who was always around the corner. Death, who reached out for him only to pull away at the last second, shaking her solemn head and leaving him empty and hollowed out inside. Death, who after all this time of pushing away, was now finally reaching out for him, whispering his name like a promise, like a forbidden secret that should have been told long ago.

Death, who at the last second smiled her knowing smile and shook her head, stepping back and watching as the calm, as the peace, and the acceptance drained from his eyes and was replaced with a seething, brightly burning anger that wouldn’t cease.

His breath caught again, and he realised he was screaming now, crying, voice hoarse but still so powerful,

“Why!? Haven’t I lost enough!? Haven’t I earned this? Don’t I deserve this!? Just let me die, goddammit! Just… Just let me finally die.”

His heart hurt, the way it was hammering against the cold metal of the reactor unbearable and cold, but he wasn’t done, couldn’t stop the words from flowing again,

“You took… _everything_ from me-- and you still force me to live with it, live through it! This isn’t life! This is what death feels like! Everything hurts and I just want it to end! Just let it end! I don’t care how you do it… just do it. Please. I can’t… I can’t keep…”

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. His lungs expanded, tried their damndest to force air in, collect every last oxygen molecule possible in a last ditch attempt to hold on, to wait for the help that was never coming to come.

Soon, he told himself, soon.

And in the back of his mind-- _was it his mind, or his spirit?_ \-- a voice echoed back to him, gently, coaxingly.

The same voice who talked to him throughout his whole life, who kept him pushing forward while he suffered echoed back, mournfully,

“Soon. Very soon. But not now, my child, not like this. There are bigger plans in store for you.”

Distantly, as though through an ocean, or cotton in his ears, Tony thought he heard something, but he couldn’t be sure.

“For now, my child, they need you. And then, only then, will you receive your peace.” 

He thinks somebody may be jostling him around, but he can’t be sure. Everything feels numb, cold. Like ice. Tony doesn't like ice, doesn't like the way it surrounds him, reminds him of his failures--

Something is definitely moving him around now, but he's still drifting, his mind racing while also slowing down.

The pain should be over soon, he thinks.

“Soon," The voice mutters, "Soon. _But not quite yet._ ”

 

Tony jerks back into life like a supernova, burning bright and loud, screaming through the pain.

He is a neutron star.

He is a black hole.

He has the universe in his eyes and nothing left to lose. 

He has the galaxy at his fingertips--

And a multiverse's amount of vengeance to exact.


End file.
